


devil, oh devil

by sazzafraz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sazzafraz/pseuds/sazzafraz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a week every year when the woods thunder with claws and fur. The media jokes about it being mating season which is both completely accurate and wildly understating the graveness of the matter. The wolves call it the ‘bloodletting’. A festival of the carnal and the hunt.   </p>
<p>Stiles likes to call it open season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	devil, oh devil

**Author's Note:**

> For dear Sandra who is kindly sitting through the writing of my WIP's, my complete inability to not gender fuck Teen Wolf, and the giant Lydia Martin character study with much grace. She just wanted something from this universe. 
> 
> Here you go.
> 
> It's porn.
> 
> (As per, if I need more warnings please tell me.)

\--  
  
There’s a week every year when the woods thunder with claws and fur. The media jokes about it being mating season which is both completely accurate and wildly understating the graveness of the matter. The wolves call it the ‘bloodletting’. A festival of the carnal and the hunt.     
  
Stiles likes to call it open season.  
  
\--  
  
‘Are you sure.’ Scott asks again with her claws curves over the bannister of the old staircase of the Whittemore house, ‘that it’s him.’  
  
‘Positive.’ Stiles lifts up the tracking device, taps the screen, and a small green marker flashes on a map with 01 flashing next to it.  
  
The bannister crunches under the force of Scotts claws. ‘I can’t go. He’ll be able to control me.’  
  
‘No, you can’t.’ Stiles licks her lips, tongue dipping across the old scar on her lip. She’ll get to pay him back for that one, ‘I can though.’  
  
A long time ago Scott might have hesitated. ‘No. Go. I’ll hold the front.’ She pauses, the words flying around the room all the more weighty for being unsaid. ‘Don’t play with him too much.’  
  
Stiles smiles, ‘how much is too much?’  
  
\--  
  
Peter Hale is everyones boogeyman but hers. She lit him up. She defied him. Sometimes she likes to think of it as defiling him. In the years since werewolves became public knowledge, Peter has made himself into an indispensable figurehead for the movement while still maintaining a background presence in the more shady parts of the community. Half of Stiles and Scott’s time is spent just making something, anything, more difficult for Peter Hale and now-  
  
 _Well_  
  
They stayed in Beacon Hills because it was convenient at first. Once they discovered that Peter’s influence on Scott was significantly lessened the further away from him she was it seemed like the easiest thing in the world to stay. Stiles doesn’t dwell on the three years after Scott was bitten; too many people died and too many people changed. Herself most of all.

Stiles is well aware she’s unstable. She’s well aware that the power she was never meant to awaken within herself is slowly eating up her rationality and sanity. Soon enough she’ll be just like the rogues the Argents take so much joy in hunting down; a bitter mass of instinct and desire.  
  
That’s not right now though, and right now she gets to pay a nighttime visit.  
  
The bloodletting drives all the wolves home and Peter is no exception. The renovated and boobitraped Hale house still stands as a testament to what they’ve all lost. From fifty metres out she can hear the unmistakable sounds of a wolf. The bike rattles to a stop a mere thirty meters from the snarling and snapping sound of claws.  
  
‘I remember you being more gentlemanly.’ She says into the dark, snapping a glow stick and hanging it on a tree. She lifts another stick out and walks forward. The forest floor snaps under her shoes. The glow stick dims just as the harsh inhale and exhale of breath gets louder. _Snap, inhale, snap, exhale_. So Peter has some magic, lucky him.  
  
‘Stiles,’ he says in an eerily pleasant voice.  
  
‘Hello Peter,’ she snaps another glow stick and forces a tiny bit of her own will into it. It glows bright blue between them, illuminating the space. Peter is grinning ear to ear, apparently unperturbed by the awkward angle of his arms or his nudity. Stiles examines him, all of him, his feet twisted up underneath him and the heavy scarring not even lycanthropy can get rid of, and sighs. ‘Natural instinct is a real bitch.’    
  
Peter shifts, ‘well, not all instincts are terrible. Some can be great motivators. Like, anger, Stiles, I’m sure you’d know about that.’  
  
With another burst of will she hangs the light in the air. The trap Peter is caught in is old and well made. Half organic and half metal, it will take Peter at least another two hours to figure out how to get out of it. Three if she distracts him. That’s past long enough for Scott to get word out that they’ve caught him. There’s a little flair of danger in her stomach. This is dumb and dangerous. Her hands come up to cradle his face. ‘Whose fault would that be.’  
  
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll twist it around to me.’ He licks his lips, pink tongue dragging across the dirt on her thumb. She hooks a finger on his bottom lip and pulls down to look at his teeth; they’re human.  
  
‘I hate you.’ Her other hand travels across the still stark burn scar that sits on his chest. She presses her nails along the raised edges. One foot sneaks forward to press lightly on his calf, he twitches, likely the only reason he’s not on his knees is because of how awkwardly placed his feet are.  
  
She kicks his foot out from underneath him and watches him fall.    
  
To his credit he makes both the fall and the scramble into kneeling look good. It puts his arms at an awkward angle and she debates leaving him like that, uncomfortable and humiliated and in pain. She wants more than that. More than just his humiliation.  
  
‘Well,’ and she hates that, hates that the wolves can always tell when she’s weakening, ‘there’s a lot we could do from this angle too.’  
  
Her throat is dry and she might be shaking. She doesn’t want to, but she does, but she doesn’t want to.‘You haven’t said yes yet.’  
  
‘You want me to,’ he says with genuine surprise quickly flicking to anger, ‘that _is_ dangerous.’  
  
‘I’m wearing clothes and standing upright.’  
  
He laughs. ‘How much do you actually _know_ about us?’  
  
Enough, she knows enough. She steps back and makes to leave. Peter punches forward with what little room he has left and licks one long stripe up the leg of her pants. He sits back, pleased, and tilts his head as if to say _your turn_.  
  
She steps back, shaking and if she can smell the sudden flush down her body she hasn’t got a hope in hell of hiding it from anyone else. It takes ten seconds of thinking about nothing at all to get her pants off and her hands around his throat. Peter takes it, just waiting with eyes that are too fucking serious for her to handle. She could take mockery or smugness but the absolute seriousness with which he eyes the edge of her underwear is unnerving.  
  
It’s the magic and the bloodletting and the slow, sickening loss of rationality, that’s it, that’s all. She sticks her thumbs in at the edge of his mouth and slides then along the grooves of teeth. He doesn’t bite her, moans when she circles the incisors. She takes one thumb out and pretends she doesn’t even make a noise when he sucks hard and rolls his tongue around the thumb still in his mouth.  
  
‘Take them off,’ her voice comes out husky. He raises an eyebrow when she pulls out of his mouth, saliva trailing over his lips and her hand. ‘What’s the point of all those teeth if you can’t use them right?’  
     
It’s dangerous and stupid to say and feels good in her mouth. She moves until she’s right up in his face, legs bracketing his head. There’s hot breath gusting her hips and a tongue worming between her thighs and she knows he’s clawing back control. She might be the one about to get eaten out but he wants her to know she’s in danger. He’s an idiot. She’s here because it’s dangerous. He traces patterns on her underwear until the cloth is damp. Teeth, human, pinch at the skin until he finds the hot pulse of her clit. Suddenly there’s the impression of distinctly non human teeth snagging at the top of the elastic band.  
  
‘My what big teeth you have,’ she says with a sarcastic twirl. Peter grazes the sharpness of her hipbones hard enough to drip blood. He licks it up and goes back to running his teeth at the elastic band. He hooks the top row of teeth over the band, all the points pressing hard at her stomach. She holds still and listens as the cloth rips in his teeth and he spits in onto the ground. Her breath sounds loud and fast on the air. She shifts her legs further apart and catches the subvocal noise Peter makes. He moves to bury his head and she grabs his hair instead, Twists it in her grip, there’s too much bone white in his jaw for her to be comfortable with, ‘wrong set of teeth,’ she says before simple burying his head between her legs.  
  
There is heat and there is wet and then there’s a tongue curling up between her folds at the wrong angle to do anything really good. She tugs on his hair and places him where she’d prefer he be, pushing and sucking. He’s an asshole, she knows that, and instead of making this quick and easy he sucks and tugs on the soft fleshy parts of her, gets her so fucking wet she wants to punch him, not even going near her clit. It goes on and on and on until she feels the first clench of an orgasm. She squeezes a little around his face just so he knows. She yanks him off. His face is shiny and his eyes are triumphant.    
  
He won’t win. Doesn’t win. She parts her leg so the smell triples up before falling gracelessly to her knees. His cock is shiny and red and slick. He won’t win. She takes him in one hand and presses too hard and too dry. She expects some noise but not the punch up of his sips are the snarl that ends up buried in her shoulder. She smiles, ‘you’re not going to beat me. You don’t get anymore of me than that.’  
  
She runs a hand down her body and between her legs again palming herself and grinding until she’s got wet fingers. She licks across his face and into his mouth where he tastes like her and fists his cock. He snarls into her mouth, ‘you have no idea what you’re doing.’  
  
Mating season. Bloodletting. It’s the same thing. The hunt for fresh meat in every sense. ‘I know what I’m doing.’  
  
‘I’ll hunt you down. I’ll find you. I’ll get you on my cock and-’ She squeezes and jerks up her pace until he’s uselessly thrusting into her fist, too fast to get off.  
  
‘And?’ She gets her teeth on his neck, ‘it’s a submission isn’t it? Getting off first. You’d think it’d be the other way around but it’s really about proving yourself as a provider.’ She bites down until she leaves a mark and holds it there, it disappears when she comes off. His dick slips in and out of the curve of her fingers, she switches hands and licks the taste of both of them off her palm. The magic in her wells up, the light grows brighter. His thrusts grow erratic and she slows down to a manageable pass. He’s moving slower, obviously staving off an ograsm. Her teeth return to leaving hickeys that disappear instantly, content to let him draw this out on his own. Eventually he grunts and comes and the hickey she’d been working on, on his necks grows purple and dark, bruising.  
  
She stands and looks at him, all messed up and filthy, silver curling in his hair. The boogeyman.  
  
She pats his cheek. ‘Welcome home.’     

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene from a universe that I am pretty much never touching again in which Peter basically took over the world and Scott and Stiles spend all their time trying to unfuck everything. Idea's from this universe ended up going other places instead and it is far too dark for me to spend any long period of time in. I still have the notes though if you have questions and as per usual my [ tumblr ](http://slowtakedowns.tumblr.com/) will be the fastest place to reach me.


End file.
